


a reward

by fthh



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, POV Second Person, it's shameless is what it is, shameless... smut?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:47:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fthh/pseuds/fthh
Summary: Rhea rewards you after a successful mission.
Relationships: Rhea (Fire Emblem)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 29





	a reward

**Author's Note:**

> i'm not sorry for being a rheafucker!!!

Rhea’s hands are soft. You noticed that years and years ago. You stopped asking why, years and years ago. You stopped asking when you bloody your hands for the tenth time for her, years and years ago.

Rhea’s hands are soft, but her touches are anything but. She shoves you by your breastplate, calls out your name like it’s poison on her tongue. “Please,” you beg.  _ I’ve been good, _ you don’t say aloud. You want  _ her _ to say it.  _ She _ has to be the one to say it.

… Else this whole game falls apart and it’s not the same.

Rhea flares her nostrils a little when she’s annoyed. It’s not terribly obvious, but years of sharing a bed and quarters with her have made you a sort of expert at discerning every minuscule change in her expression.

(A small uptick of the corners of her mouth when she’s pleased with your progress but doesn’t want to acknowledge it; a slightly sharp intake of air when she’s feeling overwhelmed by her responsibilities weighing her down.)

She hisses your name again, gives you an urgent look, and your breastplate is off in seconds, followed closely by your underlining chainmail and undershirt.

Rhea watches hungrily as your breasts are finally free from their restraints. You can feel a growing wetness between your legs when she stalks towards you with hungry eyes, tongue darting out to lick her lips.

Are they dry? You wonder. You want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you,” you say, resolutely. Rhea hates it when your voice is shaky, hates it when you sound unsure, like desiring her isn’t an incontestable truth. “I want my lips all over you.”

“What are you going to do about it?” A teasing, a provocation. She sits on the edge of the bed. You can’t touch her without her permission.

You kneel before her, the cool stone floor not an unwelcome sensation on your knees. “Please,” you beg again.  _ I’ve been so good.  _ “I completed the mission in record time,” you try.

She leans forward, traces her fingers over your bare shoulders, and they leave a trail of heat in their wake. You don’t know if it’s from magic or it’s just your excited anticipation of where those fingers will be later.

“You  _ did _ only take two days to do it,” Rhea acknowledges with a wicked smile. “Were you that desperate to see me again?”

“Yes,” you acquiesce. It’s easy to do that because it’s the truth. In your time away the only thing coursing through your veins was your desire to go back, back, back, back to Rhea, back to this inviting bed, back to your place on your knees before her. “I was thinking about you the whole time.”

Rhea’s fingers still for a moment, and she watches you, waiting, expectant. “I was thinking about you fucking me,” you finally spit out.

When she smiles, you can see her sharp canines. A shudder runs through your body, and you tremble in exhilaration: these very fangs will sink into your skin. You’re excited to find out whether or not Rhea will be gentle with you tonight.

You get your answer soon enough: she pulls you up to kiss you and she tastes like sharp iron spikes. Your thoughts don’t have time to wander because she’s pulling back and she’s looking at you with the same hunger from before, only from this close, it’s an intensity that threatens to consume you whole.

You’re not opposed to it.

“Good, good girl,” Rhea purrs, and it’s all the permission you need to finally touch her. She’s still clothed, of course, but she won’t be, in due time. She scoots back and you climb over the bed to straddle her. You press into her, chase her lips once again, and you lose yourself in her scent, in her skin, in  _ her. _

You bring a hand to palm her breast over her clothes; she hums appreciatively.

(She doesn’t moan: it’s unbecoming of her, a person of such power, to show any sign of anyone having that kind of power over her.)

“My reward, please,” you say against her lips, giving her breast another squeeze. She smirks, and that’s the last thing you remember before she forces you on your back and traces your wet lips with her fingers.

You can’t help the whine that escapes your lips. You struggle to breathe, your lungs on fire, when she finally,  _ finally,  _ touches your clit. She doesn’t hold back: she kisses you, kisses you, kisses you, and plunges two fingers into your cunt, a thumb circling your clit. You scream her name, and she bites at your neck to remind you to behave.

.

She rewards you ten times that night. You promise to do even better next time. There’s a stinging sensation over your neck where she’d bitten you, and all over your back where she’d run her fingernails.

Rhea’s hands are soft as she runs them over your cheeks to wake you up. It’s always like this the morning after, when she brings you breakfast in bed, after a night of her doing whatever she likes to your body.

“Good morning,” she says with a small laugh, handing you the tray as you sit up. She tells you you looked peaceful in your sleep. She tells you you’re very warm. She tells you she’s glad to be sleeping in your arms. This is a facade; you know this fact very well. She’s buttering you up for another mission.

You don’t care.

For her? You’re willing to die a thousand painful deaths. You’re willing to have every bone in your body torn away from your flesh. You’re willing to be the last thing she steps on to strike her enemies.

For her? You’ll bring down the sun if she asks. You’ll pull the clouds to bring down rain if she asks. You’ll pick the stars with your bare hands and give them to her if she asks.

For her?

Anything.

**Author's Note:**

> idk where all this rhea thirst suddenly came from but here we are :) thanks for reading this incredibly self-indulgent fic, i had a blast writing it
> 
> [x](https://twitter.com/merciehonkers)


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